


Praise Be

by timetosin



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: 1950s sexism and disgusting men, Angst, Angst with potential happy ending, End game gwenvid, F/M, Implied Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts, also not an expert on psychiatric treatment, big difference between david's cult and actual respectable religious practices, gwenvid - Freeform, implied nsfw, in no means insults to people of certain faiths, just kinda dark and sad, sad sad gwen, tw abusive relationship, tw depression, tw medicants, tw nsfw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-25
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 22:34:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16731909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetosin/pseuds/timetosin
Summary: 50′s AU where Gwen is married to cultist Daniel and attends therapy after a severe breakdown. Gwen finds herself questioning her skewed ideas of faith, love, and the domestic abuse she endures under her husbands shuddering hands.Over time she is unable to stop herself from falling in love with her therapist, David, and wishing for a better life.Endgame Gwen and DavidWarnings: Unhealthy and violent relationship, in no way do I mean to glorify or romanticize this relationship. Implied and direct abuse as well as internalized misogyny and sexism. Not a lighthearted story at all, in fact Daniel is sickening. Angst. Attempt of self harm/suicide through mendicants. If any of these things are triggering to you, please stay clear!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, please keep in mind there is violence, medicants, self harm, partner/domestic abuse, and nsfw present in this story  
> If any of these things may trigger you please keep yourself safe, I love writing on darker topics but your safety and peace of mind is more important than any story.  
> Thank you,

Sunday afternoon in the middle of September was when she finally snapped.

In the home, alone, lost entirely in her own thoughts she stood up abruptly spilling ink over the front of her petticoat.

Gwen’s naked hands had flown into her pressed hair and yanked, a scream falling from her lips like blood. The scream flooding the air around her becoming nothing but a white noise as she yanked the paper right out of the typewriter. Sentences of grandeur were blurred since the ink had not yet dried and she smudged the ink across her fingers violently.

Fingerprints would be strewn across the home’s walls as she pressed her palms all along them feeling her way to the kitchen. In a daze which had transitioned to laughter, she slammed her fists into the counter.

The cabinet door made a nasty sound when it flew into the wall beside her, her uncontrollable hands slamming pill bottles to the ground. Plastic pill bottles bounced and cracked on the tile as she threw them to the ground with force. Her whole arm now shoved into the back of the cabinet, laughter replaced the scream although it resembled a banshee more than a housewife.

More, pills, more.

They were supposed to make her better, better the word was nothing but a whisper in her thoughts but overpowered the logical side of her brain. Slopping to the ground she lay among the mess of bottles and began savagely yanking them open pouring out every vibrantly colored solution on the ground.

“I’m  _better_  now,Daniel! I’m better now don’t you worry, love.”

Scattered out surrounding her stocking covered legs the pills sparkled like lifesaving candies each in their own beautiful capsules. Gwen fell back in them, hands grabbing greedy handfuls of the pills before realizing what she must do to please him. Eat them, eat them all, eat them until she felt better.

Ink splattered hands ushered the pills into her awaiting mouth, enough pills to make her cheeks swell and stretch to fit more. Down the hatch they went, and she had to hold a palm over her mouth to keep them in since she was laughing with unfocused eyes. Handful after handful Gwen fondled them, letting them fall between her stained knuckles, and then back into her mouth.

The sound of Daniel’s briefcase hitting the floor resonated through the house.

“What the bloody hell are you doing, you-”

_Better_

His rough hands were wrapping around her chin and squeezing causing her to spit out a dozen pills some half dissolved. His fingers were reaching in her mouth, the digits hooking around as many pills as they could and yanking them out. Something about it reminded her of Jonah and the whale, he should have let her swallow the pills, she could have saved them from the storm.

_Better_

“How many did you fucking swallow-you-”

Daniel’s voice was far away, his hand knitted in her hair yanking her brutally to her feet was not. He cursed, he spits, he embodied the color red. Gwen grappled at his wrists as he lifts her with a hold on her throat, laughing and sobbing all the same. She thinks he will kill her, his grip on her neck only tightens as he screams. How will she get better than if he does?

“Stupid fucking wh-”

He drags her by the throat to the living room throwing her hazardously on the carpet, she feels weak. She heaves, she smiles, she can feel the pills sloshing in her bile-filled stomach. Coming to waver on all fours she dry heaves, spine curling up like a cat, coughing trying to find air.

Far away she can hear him on the phone with someone, something about hospital, something about help.

Laying her face to the ground Gwen lets out a choked breath, the world goes in and out of focus around her until it shifts entirely to a shade of black.

_It’s better now._

* * *

“You’ll be expected to take your medication every morning around six, and seeing the therapist three times a week. I’m more than sure this is just some pre-winter blues my dear, but we must take all the precautions necessary.”

The plump doctor straightened his papers as he spoke to Gwen, who forced a smile. This whole thing was embarrassing and she felt like a child, she had snapped everyone does it. There was no reason to go out of their way to deal with her everything was under control.

“We have assigned you to David Greenwood, excellent man and therapist. No patient leaves him without becoming better, and he’s a very popular man.”

“Thank you, doctor. I just want my honey back at her best.”

Daniel’s arm tightened slightly around her waist and she exhaled slowly. The perfect husband, level-headed and affectionate, she turned her face to smile to him. His icy eyes bore back into her’s and he rubbed her back, Gwen clasped her gloved hands to conceal their shaking. Looking more than amicable now she knew he was mad.

It was ironic really, they were giving her more pills, even after her excess of pills.

She would write about this for sure, write until she could forget that other half of her. The half that shoved pills down her throat to feel better and thought Daniel shouldn’t slap her when the chicken came out dry. Thankful, she should be thankful, he was a good husband.

Their hands were intertwined as they walked out to the car, him guiding her as if she could not walk on her own. His hold reeked of possession and superiority, she was not a wife but a toy of sorts. A modest kiss was pressed to her temple before he guided her into the passenger set of the car and Gwen wished he wouldn’t. This was all her fault, yet again, why wouldn’t those evil voices shush and let her be?

Silence, they drove in absolute silence, yet his hand still covered her’s.

“Daniel…”

Gwen began but the words were lost on her lips as his grip tightened. His hand was soon wrapped around her wrist and squeezing harder and harder, she was sure it would bruise. A yip of pain escaped her lips and her eyes widened in fear of angering him further.

“Never. Ever. Do that again. You hear me, you idiot.”

He released her hand, shoving it away from him as if it was plagued. Gwen’s eyes shifted out to the blurred scenery passing them, he was speeding and didn’t seem to slow for anything. She softly shook out her now numb hand and nodded, murmuring an apology.

“I could have lost you.”

Daniel continued, and she remembered how he loved her so. He liked to say she drove him mad, mad with love, he always said that after he cleaned the blood from her nose. She would wince when the napkin touched her sensitive and swelling cheek and he would kiss the tip of her nose. His blue eyes would have that faraway look to them, his smile much too wide to be natural. So sweet, so swell, such a pretty home they had together.

“What would I have done? What would I do, love? You must want some other woman to bear my child, I thought you wanted to fulfill your role as a woman. How will you go to heaven without having a child, love?”

Her response was muted.

“No.”

Daniel hummed slowing for a stop sign, not looking to his wife. His hand brushed through his own hair to clear his vision before he continued.

“You’re supposed to be getting better.”

She stared at the purse sitting in her lap, of course she should be. Thinner, obedient, and sweet that is what she should be, just as the church asked. Daniel was right, he was always right. Reaching across the expanse to brush his fingers curling around the steering wheel, Gwen brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss.

“I know.”

Once more he hummed in response seemed more pleased with this response, although she could tell his hands were itching to correct her with a fist. She deserved it, she had disobeyed the book and her husband.

“Praise be.”

She whispered it into his knuckles as if begging for salvation.

Daniel echoed the sentiment with more rigor.

“Praise be.”

* * *

David Greenwood was ecstatic when another patient was assigned to him, beaming when the secretary pressed the case folder into his hands. They chatted for a moment, she pat his shoulder as she left his office with a smile equally as genuine.

He wastes no time flicking through the file and reading over the patient.

Gwen.

A welsh name if he was correct, meaning something like white or holy.

He always thought that was a pretty name.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: Gwen's depression/self harming thoughts are discussed and there is non-explicit nsfw
> 
> Gwen and Daniel’s intimate relationship is discussed and Gwen begins her first therapy session with David.

Salt, pepper, a tear or two, and a sprig of rosemary.

Ingredients to make the perfect pot roast and the happiest husband. Gwen stared at the mix for a moment before carrying the entire concoction to the pre-heated oven. Sliding the mix inside and ignoring the intrusive thought to stick her entire head in there with it, she closes the oven door. Her thighs are sore and her mind lingers to the events of the night prior.

Shouldn’t this make her smile?

She was fulfilling her role as wife, making the pastor proud, going to go to that good place. As long as she was full of seed and pills nothing should be wrong, yet there always was.

The clock had struck eleven pm the night he had taken her home from the hospital, they had laid side by side in the bedroom in silence. His blue eyes had consumed the holy book behind glass lenses as she pretended to be making good progress on her knitting. She gasped quietly when his hand wrapped around her shoulder and squeezed, the touch was soft.

Gwen knew that touch, she knew what followed suit.

Fulfillment.

Fulfill her husband, fulfill her role, fulfill the womb with its much-needed child.

There was no kiss as she slid down onto her back on the king-sized bed staring at the ceiling. She was a starving doll surrounded by neatly folded sheets and a cup of coffee shaking on the bed stand. Her body was limp as she held her breath and let Daniel do as he pleased, good wives were instructed to be as quiet as possible.

Objectively the act of consummation was not the worst, he seemed happy at least, she always felt that she was on the edge of something much more but never reached the peak.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

Cold hands separated her thighs and Gwen let her hands lay by her sides in attempt to ignore the closeness of her husband.

“Of course, darling.”

Daniel cleared his throat preparing himself and she allowed herself to glance at his nudity for a moment before flickering her eyes away. When he buried himself deep without warning she let out a coughed gasp and sweaty palm covered her mouth immediately.

“Silence my love.”

Her eyes watered and she nodded under his grip breathing heavily through her nostrils. Daniel’s movements were unsteady as he colonized her body through controlling thrusts and she gripped the sheets until her fingers became numb. She wanted to moan, to kiss him like the women in books did, hold him and feel something more than duty to the church. His loud hot breath near her ear made her shiver and she gently moved to wrap her leg around his waist.

The act made him stop his ministrations and he sat up staring down at her with glaring accusatory eyes.

Gwen knew she pushed, she had pushed too far with that, now he looked down at her like she was a wanton woman with no self-control. Yet for once Daniel said nothing, with sharp movements he tugged both her legs to wrap around his waist and continued. She was stunned, she felt power for a moment, and when his hand returned to clamp her mouth closed she smiled under it. Maybe she was not the worst wife now, maybe he liked the change as much as she did, staring at the ceiling bobbing under his body she thought of his final groan.

Once she was filled he yanked himself free of her and returned to his standing position recovering his body quickly. The only way one could tell he was not the epitome of detachment was his still red cheeks, running a hand through his hair he let out a stressed sigh through his teeth. Gwen rolled to her side and got to the side of the bed to pray for child. Daniel pacing at the foot of the bed.

“Never, never do that again.”

He whirled around staring at her with dazed eyes, and she stumbled to her feet. Her neck could have snapped from the intensity in which she nodded, eyes darting to the ground.

In silence, they crawled back into bed, side by side once more as if nothing occurred between them. The only sign they had ever been intimate was the gentle kiss he pressed to her temple and the harsh slap that followed.

* * *

Soft ticks from the grandfather clock in the corner of the waiting room heighten her anxiety as she does her best to sit still.

Her leg begins to quiver before giving into a soft shake, her palm slaps down on it hard enough to make her wince. Control, control, everything requires a lot of control. Glancing across the room she watches her husband’s lean figure bent writing while speaking animatedly to the secretary. A part of her wishes to be jealous, but no jealousy arises, only an emotion resembling fear.

A fear that this woman could take her place and slip in with two stoking covered legs into her reserved line to go to heaven. If someone else bore her husband’s child she would surely be doomed, while it was daunting she made no movement to lay claim on Daniel. Her mind flicks to their wedding day, the smiles, the flowers, the bile in the back of her throat.

Daniel loved her so though, he would never put her soul in danger that way.

Something resembling a smile covered her cheeks as her fingertip brushed over the eternal rock hunched on her ring finger. The band was gold, sparkling, and suffocating. Love, love, love, all of his brisk yanks were filled with love. He was only protecting her from herself, she could believe in that.

Yet at moments like this just feeling the ring weigh down her hand felt like too much love, she felt like she couldn’t breathe.

“Gwen-”

She’s clamoring to her feet before she can register Daniel’s eyes flicker to the man who stands in the doorway. In seconds he has crossed the room, ready to talk for her, grin for her, shake hands for her. Fluidly and without hesitation, he is introducing himself and his wife, his voice going on and on like a record that plays fine although it is covered in soot.

“Nice to meet you.”

The sincerity is echoed.

“I am so concerned about my love.”

The concern is acknowledged, it is soothed.

“We have been married a very long time, I only want the best for  _my_ wife.”

Not once has Daniel said her name, she doesn’t ponder this, there’s too many other things to absorb like the way the fish in the tank bang against the glass. Colorful little buggers fly across the water only to return to the same conclusion of pressing their mouths to the glass. They want to escape, or at least expand, do they want to grow? Gwen is lost in her inquiry until she hears a name.

_David._

“Yes, of course, well let me walk her to your office with you.”

Daniel insists.

“Oh well, that won’t be necessary.”

The stalemate has reached a disagreement, Gwen sensing this and noticing the pause in their blabber glances between the two men. David is handsome, her brain registers this but cannot decide what else to do with it. Very handsome, the thought presses again, this time with detail. Squirming to be developed the thought gathers its wits, strong jaw, kind eyes, pointed nose, and red hair.

Daniel is a persistent man though and his dominating nature isn’t limited to just her. Walking through the warmly lit hallway they reach Greenwood’s office, Daniel’s hand flush against the small of her back the entire way. The feeling of his smooth palm burns uncomfortably warm against her dress, she can feel the whispers through his touch.

_Praise be._

His hand presses harder almost pushing her to walk faster, in her mind she wills back the phrase with twice the vigor. When they reach the office, David holds the door open for the couple but she only walks through when Daniel takes the task from his hands. Only then does his hand leave her back.

As their eyes meet and he must relinquish his presence so she may begin the session, she mirrors his expression the unspoken phrase instilled on both her lips and brain.

_Praise be._

* * *

Pine, his office smells like pine trees.

Gwen tosses the thought aside though as her heels glide over the cherry wood that make up the floors if she were not so heavy the click of her feet would not resemble a bear. David seems to stare at her with welcoming eyes though, perhaps he is simply doing his best.

“Please, take a seat.”

With a hand the color of milk he gestures to a chaise in which she gingerly sits down, across from her he settles in his own recliner. A smile is plastered across his shapely face, a nice smile, nothing like the smile Daniel gives her when he holds an ice pack to her cheek. Gwen wants to feel comfortable around him but the memory of the pastor himself chides her.

She shouldn’t be here, she should be getting better at home.

David says nothing for a moment, only making the move to pour her a glass of water. She watches her eyes almost wary, her small gloved hand taking the offered drink hesitantly.

“I am very pleased to meet you, Gwen. Please, feel free to call me David.”

Her brow naturally raised at the casual nature he was addressing her with and just how friendly he was. David exuded happiness, she found herself leaning forward like a flower to the sun.

“The same to you.”

Gwen’s voice came out softer than she anticipated and she cleared her throat.

David continued to speak, yet it puzzled her how he maintained the air of innocence. He did not bring up the reason she was there, instead acting as if they were old friends catching up. Her shoulders begged to go lax but her mind flickering to Daniel kept them rigid.

“So-”

He began this sentence with a sigh before plopping down in his own chair, no notebook or pen in hand. Gwen tried to look anywhere but to the man in front of her, being alone in a room with an attractive man suddenly felt too intimate. She was covered from head to toe in clothing, even her hands hidden behind her gloves, yet he looked at her in a way she felt he was pulling her apart. The way his eyes searched her reminded her of the way Daniel flicked through the good book to find the exact passage he wanted to tell the children during bible study.

“What do you like to do, Gwen?”

No longer could she stare unattached at the plants that flourished on the windowsill behind his ear, she peered at him with confusion.

“What?”

David grinned, this time folding one long leg over the other. The fluid motion in which he did it was attractive, alluring, dangerously carefree. His movements were liberal in nature as if his limbs were his and his own to move and he didn’t listen when they told him he was going to hell. Gwen liked this about him, she knew she shouldn’t but she couldn’t help it.

He repeated the question once more, and his voice was so genuinely caring it almost uprooted her fear.

Almost but not quite.

“Clean, pray, cook.”

David laughed, the sound filled the room, his laugh was robust and left her wishing he would laugh again. She shifted in the chaise unsure of what to do though, there was no reason for his laughter. Once he wiped a good-natured tear from his eye he chuckled once more and glanced to her once more.

“I’m sorry, but somehow I don’t believe that.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Mental illness and violence 
> 
> Gwen allows David to read her writings during her session and watches her husband in action on a Sunday.

The soft shuffling sound of her folding one leg over the other filled the office, lingering in the air for a few moments before allowing the silence to consume once more. Sunlight streamed through the blinds, the light illuminated the tuff of red hair that sat atop his head and his cherub cheeks increased his angelic presence.

David glanced to the side admiring the painting to his left with seemingly endless patience and gracing her with an indulgent view of his profile.

“Don’t want to talk today?”

His voice was smooth coax and with a tight-lipped smile, she shook her head no. Daniel would be pleased, he would have pet the top of her head if he was there, his thin fingers would wrap around her fly away and yank them from her skull. She took in a short intake of breath and drew her eyes away from the source of potential sin in front of her.

David hummed in response to her small gesture before rising and crossing the office to water his plants. He never pushed, he never demanded only suggested.

Words pressed themselves against her closed lips, fighting violently to escape. They pressured and burned her tongue but her resolve shushed them vehemently. Her cheeks went numb when the words won their war and her fingers shook from the repercussions of the decision.

“I…I brought some of my writing today.”

David paused for a moment, the water continued to run over the plants almost overflowing before he yanked the spout upward once more. Then he turned on his heel and the quickness of the movement made her jump, with strides that would have taken her ages he returned to his own seat.

“You did? That’s perfect because I bought some of my own as well.”

Feeling rather insecure with his now undivided gaze on her and under the shining brilliance of his smile, Gwen’s eyes darted to the window. She glanced instead to her humble purse beside her, her writing and thoughts were contraband in her own home but perhaps he would be humored by them. She should have shamed herself for the desire to impress anyone but Daniel.

The desire to flee the room with her purse and untainted reputation overcame her and she suddenly started to her feet. David jumped to his own at the same time and apologizes flew from his lips instantly, he pleaded and her heart ached. He moved to reach her side but that action seemed more damning than submission and backpaddled to her seat once more.

A beat of silence passed between them.

“H-Here…”

Reaching into her purse and retrieving her works she felt as if she was handing over something much more sacred than she initially anticipated. The stack of parchment felt foreign under her fingertips and across the expanse between them, he accepted this unknown gift.

His eyes were hungry, they reminded her of the stories in which the lusting men consumed the meat greedily and were ultimately punished by God. The expression was unbecoming on him, the realization of flaw humanized him and she found herself finding it more alluring. David returned her sentiments presenting his own stack of writings as well, it seemed he shared the same anxieties as her since he passed it rather hesitantly.

“Thank you, may I read them now? I have been quite thrilled to hear I would be working with another writer like myself.”

He laughed and the smallest smile echoed on her lips.

Gwen was filled with a sinking fear when he finally opened the papers, the eyes of God were boring down on her and she had wronged him. She swallowed as she thumbed his writing in her own hands feeling utterly naked in front of a man who was not her husband. In this moment she felt as if he was peering past her bare breasts and seeing her heart tucked so modestly into her ribcage. How would she purify such a deep organ inside her body, if Daniel knew how many dunks under the bathroom sink would it take to cleanse her?

The most frightening emotion that overcame her was adrenaline.

She felt disturbingly alive, pulsing and shaking with potential energy but no way to exert it. As his eyes ran over her words the want to clasp her hand over his undid every resolve she had housed the day prior.

Nothing could be done now, she had to insist that she was unable to come back and Daniel would proclaim her cured. Verse after verse they would mutter in sync and he would kiss her temple. Daniel would be proud, that’s what should be done, she should be the sweetest wife for him and never come back. The right form of love was like hell’s fire, intense and painful but warning of the eternity that could follow if one didn’t obey. For that she was thankful, for that she was blessed, Gwen was sure of Daniel’s love.

Temptation brought her eyes down to David’s writing in her own lap.

Before she could think, Gwen consumed the scratched writing on the paper. Reading the words made her feel impossibly close to the man across from her. Her brows furled at the first sentence he had chosen to write; the sentences then unraveled a reality she was uncertain if she wished to know. Perhaps her writing gave him a similar feeling, one of raw voyeurism into the suffering of another.

_Darkness laid her imploring hands over the trees of the neighborhood._

_The birds sitting in their homes were filled with an emotion they had never faced before because at that very moment they had a realization that their precious light was gone._

_Would the sun rear its omniscient head again, or would they forever live in this abyss?_

_They waited, they crowed, they clawed the bark of the tree they called home because the moments that seemed like hours dragged on. Fear gripped and tore them apart from the inside and they laid down finally accepting they should die if they could not have light once more._

_When the sun arose once more the birds cried harder_

_This fear was to remain, this strange emotion was never going to leave_

Their eyes left the other’s work at the same time, there was nowhere else to look but forward. Gwen froze when his eyes captured her own. Once more the blinding smile spread across his freckle splattered cheeks and his lips were moving but she was not registering what he was saying.

His words gradually ended as David turned back to her writing and she mirrored the action.

Only when she heard a small laugh escape her mouth did she realize she was smiling as well.

* * *

“And through our sacrifices, we grow closer to our savior above, we allow the light of God to shine through us.”

Daniel’s booming voice filled the Sunday school’s room, the children sitting at his feet staring up at him with glimmering eyes. Each one of them sat on their own hands in a committed silence with bright smiles and lollipops stuffed in their gullets. Gwen had slowed her pace when she passed the room on her way to the second service, her feet coming to an unsteady stop right outside of the doorway.

The children resemble angels in their white dresses and pants, uncracked bible bindings, and uttermost attention. Daniel rambles his words weaving into their ears and to her best knowledge hearts, she watches expecting some motherly desire to overtake her body. A moment like this would be perfect to suddenly strike her with heavenly intent but she remains numb.

With a sharp intake of breath and a frenzied excitement in his eyes, Daniel begins a recitation Gwen has memorized to the sharp slaps to the side of her head the night before.

“Sacrifice! We must always learn to sacrifice and do what is best! My sweet girlies in your pearly white and my strong boys know this, we must never forget this.”

A flurry of laughter buzzes through the children, Gwen steps back from the doorway but her ears remained peeled. Their laughter sounds similar to small animals squealing before their slaughtered and she wishes the doctor would issue her another pill to rid of this fatigue. Squeezing her eyes shut as tightly as she can Gwen waits, begs, pleads for the motherly instinct so she can secure her place in line for heaven above.

Daniel’s boots click across the untainted tile as her hand reaches out to the wall for support, once again he continues.

“Heaven will only take those who bring us those blessed babies, everything has a natural order! Boys, I expect you to fulfill your duty and take care of these lovely ladies now. As men it is our responsibility to make sure girls follow the good book, they can be ditzy at times they cannot help it. Only us men can secure these girls their place in God’s great place, you know that don’t you Ned?”

There is a soft murmur of agreement in response to his monologue.

“Perfect! Well, little angels, you know your job as well. You keep the home clean so the boys can bring you back everything you need, you remain beautiful and pure, and when the children are here you make sure to adore them to pieces.”

Gwen knows the children nod their head silently, shaken from her stupor she takes a step back down the hallway until the sound of wood hitting palm erupts from the doorway.

“There is no moving during lecture.”

Immediately a distinct wail of pain fills the air, the scream is shrill and another pop of ruler hitting bare knuckles sounds off once more.

She flinches and with rushed footsteps she flees down the hall.

* * *

The moonlight leaks into the bedroom through the slightly parted curtains when Gwen finds herself awake staring at the empty ceiling. At any moment she imagines David would freely move his body and rise from the bed, but unlike him, she cannot. Invisible restraints keep her body glued to the sweat damped sheets.

Her eyes betray her though and glance over Daniel’s blonde head to the clock remaining on his side of the bed.

Straining her eyes in the darkness she stares until she deciphers the time, the realization almost makes her scream. Out of fear, her eyes dart away and she scrambles to grab her own shoulders but careful not to disturb the figure lying next to her. Gwen swallows but her throat is dry, perhaps she can will herself back to sleep.

Desperately she shuts her eyes once more, 3:00 is the Devil’s time, the voices in her head sing the numbers out with a shaking scream.

A shudder assaults her spine as Gwen can feel the curling nails of demons scrapping her bare shoulder. Clenching her fists, she lets out another bumpy exhale and glances to Daniel in search of some support or protection from the evil in the atmosphere. Instead of finding solace in the image of her husband a wretched lusting to drive both of her thumbs into his eye sockets arose, the thought rang through her so violently she thought she has been possessed.

In her thoughts, she yanks his blonde locks from his skull in bloody clumps, slams his head into the headrest, peels his skin and muscle away until his brittle skeleton was exposed. The musing unsettles her to the point she coughs in hopes of retching up the murderous rage inside her. Whatever demon decided it wanted to corrupt her brain eventually slithered back out although the voices in her head had begged for it to stay.

Gwen hiccups for air in the darkness wishing Daniel would wake up and hold her, but his gluttonous snoring form remains still until the sunrise.


End file.
